It’s been a long time since I experienced homophobia. But going through it again is bringing up a lot of memories
I’ve been out since I was 15. And until now, it’s been pretty easy
I was privileged enough to be born after most of the gay panic had died down. I wouldn’t say things were great in 1996 - obviously I have no memory of it - but certainly by the time I had a thudding realisation I wasn’t straight, no one was going to beat me up. No one was going to set my house on fire, or fire me from work for having a girlfriend. The worst I can truly claim to have experienced as an LGBT+ person was playground bullying for being too masculine, and a few inappropriate comments at work. Nothing unusual.
My sexuality made me weird, sure, but no more so than my purple skinny jeans and the fact I was a cringeworthy Young Lib Dem. For me at that age, being bisexual was just something I was, something I felt, something that was perhaps a tiny bit shameful and abnormal…
